You Distract Me - S01 E58

Story 4 months ago

You Distract Me - S01 E58

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 58

Olivia

Typical.

Dim lights, stale four walled room, bound limbs, rigid wooden chair, skittering vermin; all the makings of a gimmicky kidnapping scene in an awful low budget movie.

Unfortunately, I must have jumped into one.

"Don't you think this is a little generic?" I said to the brown skinned woman standing over me, her ever impeccable appearance in utmost order.

I'd already gotten over my initial shock of realizing Sasha might actually be a psychotic snake.

When I'd opened my eyes in the dark spacious room, she'd been looking down at me with the sweetest villainous smirk. It hadn't taken long for me to put two and two together.

Now, as she continued to stare down at me, I was beginning to squirm in my seat, my restrained hands clenching and unclenching against the back of the chair.

"Are you just gonna stare or are we going to skip the dramatics?"

She remained quiet.

I managed to roll my eyes. "Okay, I guess I'll do it for the both of us then. I'm assuming you had something to do with the missiles. Is my assumption accurate?"

She tilted her head, her smirk deepening. "I like the hair. A little bloodied, but I like the new length."

As if reminded of my bleeding head, the throbbing there intensified by a couple of notches. "Thank you. You inspired it when you nearly burnt me to a crisp in my own apartment. Am I wrong in assuming that was you too?"

She ignored my words again. "You must be in pain, huh?"

My pounding head wasn't nearly as agonizing as the bullet hole in my arm. "Piece of cake."

"Sure. As tough as you think you are—and I'd hate to break it to you—we both know you're a helpless little girl who can't get shit done. It's a wonder all those attempts to take you failed. Although, I'll probably hand it to that scar faced giant and your beautiful knight in shining crap."

Feeling pure rage for the first time, I spoke through clenched teeth. "You have no idea how dead you are. Shayne will—"

She laughed out loud. "Do you have any idea how pathetic you sound right now? Do you have no dignity leaning on anyone who will let you? I honestly don't know what Shayne sees."

"Well she definitely doesn't see a demented bitch!"

"Says the girl who thinks a bloodthirsty crime lord is in love with her."

Stunned, my mouth gaped at her words.

"I'm sorry, which part left you speechless exactly? Is it the part where you realize you're currently fucking a coldblooded killer? Or the part where you think said killer actually gives a damn about you?"

Fed up, I pushed down my emotions. "What do you want with me? Is this about your feelings for Shayne?"

She paused for a moment, only to burst out into a roar of laughter in the next, her eyes gradually collecting moisture. "You really are pathetic, aren't you? The mighty Shayne West, loved by every soul with a beany bundle of nerves between their legs, right? Please, spare me." She collected herself, organizing her perfect pant suit. "Let's get down to business, shall we?"

The door to the room swung open. A man with long honey blonde hair and the largest biceps I'd ever seen swaggered into the room. His whole demeanor was incredibly off-putting.

"I'm sorta in the middle of something, Cillian."

He stood beside me, reeking of tobacco and sickly sweet cologne. "I apologize, ma'am. But Ashford wants a word with you."

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"What the hell does that devil want?"

"Wouldn't say."

Sasha grunted and turned to me. "I'll be right back, honey. Cillian here will keep you company."

As she approached the door, vexed cobalt-blue eyes appeared in the doorway. Short golden locks were hidden under a baseball cap with the Stanford logo on it. She was quite attractive.

The person offered me a quick glance before being ushered away by Sasha.

"Careful, she's the one that put a bullet in you." That deep Irish accent pulled my attention to the unsettling man before me.

My eyes zeroed in on his thick tattooed neck, the only part of him with ink. I shrugged. "It's not the first time someone's tried to kill me."

"She wasn't trying to, little girl." Out of the blues, his hooded gaze ran down my T-shirt clad body, burning over my bare thighs. "Now, are you impartial to females, or can you take a real, hard, long one once in a while?"

His despicable words were disgusting enough for me to jerk back in my chair. The unintended action threw me backwards, the chair falling apart under me with the impact and smacking the air out of my lungs.

"Calm down, sweetheart. It was only a joke. Let me help you up," he said, chottling like an idiot.

Despite the beginning of a nasty throb assaulting my back, I was aware of him approaching me. I saw it before I could panic. The silver glint of his firearm, strapped to his belt.

Olivia, don't be dumb. You know this is dumb.

It was too late however. I'd already made up my mind. My one advantage here was that the imbecile hadn't noticed the poorly made knot around my wrists come apart. I had the element of surprise in my favor.

He crouched and pulled me up by my arms, and as soon as we were both at our full heights, I drew up my knee and rammed it between his legs, hard.

He didn't make a sound. For the slightest moment, I worried he might have been invincible. But the sudden tension pulling at his muscles, and the indistinguishable look of excruciating pain on his face was enough for me to grab his gun while he fell to his knees.

My hands, shaking like a leaf, held onto the weapon for dear life, aiming at his head.

He moaned like a wounded animal. "You little bitch! You're gonna regret that."

Think. What would Shayne do.

I looked around me frantically, keeping my aim on the still moaning man. Other than a rotting table, the broken chair and a lone beam, the room was void of any other objects that could aid my escape.

I could only secure the door with the lone beam, anchoring it on steel barricade brackets on either side of the door. Going out would be a bad idea, I wasn't sure where we were and there could be an army guarding the door outside. If I didn't find a way soon, I'd be caught and I wasn't sure if the door would hold for long.

"How would I get out of here?" I couldn't help my shaking.

The fool laughed. "Go fuck yourself." Seeming to recover from his battered loins, he started to rise, pinpoint rage set on me.

Surprising both of us, I pummeled the grip of the gun right across his cheek, knocking out a couple of teeth.

"Fuck!" He chuckled through a gushing mouth. "Those were loose anyway. You might be ballsier than I thought you were."

"How do I get out? I'm not afraid to pull the trigger."

"Pull it then. As soon as that happens, you'll be surrounded and no one will be able to count the canyons that you'd have in you."

"I'm not too sure about that. I have a feeling no one's looking to end my life, at least not anytime soon, otherwise it would have already been done. You guys need something from me. I'll give you this opportunity to give me an answer."

"Like I said, go fuck—"

No hesitation, my finger was pulling back that trigger like it had a mind of it's own. The bullet went clean through his shoulder, spewing crimson blood on its way out. He fell back in a scream of anguish, a sound that would probably haunt me for years to come.

Almost immediately, I heard footsteps charging towards me. No time on my hands, I knelt beside him, jamming my finger into his shoulder. His cry was heart wrenching.

"You'd better start talking."

He threw his head side to side with a look of anguish that I suspected had little to do with his haemorrhaging shoulder. "I can't, he's gonna kill me."

Shouts could be heard outside. The barricaded door was already starting to cave in from the force being used to get it open.

"I don't know about you, but I reckon I'm much closer to you than whoever's making you shit your pants," I said, emphasizing my words by pressing my finger deeper into his wound.

"Ah! Okay, okay. Fuck!" He looked painfully resigned. "It's your father, I work for your father. And so does Ms. King. We were hired to—"

"Go back, did you say 'my father'? My father's in prison."

"Not him. I'm talking about your biological father."

"My biological father? How could he have anything to do with this? I've never even met him."

"He has everything to do with this. Ms. King and I just follow orders."

The deepest part of my mind was resurfacing a name, one I wasn't too keen on mentioning.

The door finally broke down, but I ignored it. "What's his name?"

"Oran Demir."